[Yes, I have a strange mixture of friends. These are a dozen more “status”
updates on Facebook this past weekend.]
“You’re so hot”, I whispered as I took a plate of food from the microwave.
Respect your parents. They passed school before there was Google.
I always say what I mean. Now, I might not mean to say it out loud, but I
always mean it.
Pilates? Oh, my. I thought we were going for “pie” and “lattes”.
I’m sorry, I’m not God. I can’t redefine what God says is marriage. And no,
I don’t hate anyone.
I’d slap the stupid out of you, but that would take all week.
What do you call a thousand Feds at the bottom of the ocean? A good start.
Bob, you have some funny friends. I am not one of them.
They say you are what you eat. Funny, I don’t remember eating any sexy beast
I used to love slamming a phone down hanging up on telemarketers. Violently
pushing ‘end call’ just doesn’t do it for me.
Me, a morning person? Most days I’m not even an afternoon person.
I’m so old I used a rotary phone, listening to 45’s and watch a
black-and-white 11″ TV with aluminum foil on its rabbit ears.
Finally pulled the trigger and joined the NRA.
Stupid autocorrect. Always end up posting some thong you didn’t Nintendo.
Dr Bob Griffin
“Jesus Knows Me, This I Love!”